


blame

by Spikedluv



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: Community: rounds_of_kink, Light BDSM, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 19:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12087597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spikedluv/pseuds/Spikedluv
Summary: Per the prompt: It's Charlie's fault Don can't say no.





	blame

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Round 31 of [Rounds of Kink](http://rounds-of-kink.livejournal.com/) for the prompt: _Numb3rs, Don Eppes/Charlie Eppes, rough sex and orgasm denial, It's Charlie's fault Don can't say no_.
> 
> Warning: This is not a healthy relationship.
> 
> Written: September 13, 2017

Don blames Charlie. He knows it’s unreasonable, illogical, but reason and logic have no place in this thing between them. If Charlie didn’t look at him the way he does, brown doe eyes pleading for things that Don knows are wrong, Don would be able to resist the tug he feels low in his belly when he hears Charlie’s voice, when he brushes his hand over Charlie’s curls.

Charlie smiles when Don capitulates. It’s soft and sweet, and it makes Don feel things he shouldn’t for his brother, so he fucks Charlie’s mouth until his lips are red and swollen, his voice raspy from having Don’s cock in his throat. Charlie closes his eyes and takes it, his expression radiant as he lets Don use his mouth.

Don can’t take the look on Charlie’s face so he closes his eyes, but it’s not enough. Don pulls out of Charlie’s mouth, ignoring the whine of protest, and throws Charlie on the bed. Charlie immediately scrabbles to his knees and eagerly shoves his ass up into the air. Don wants to slide his hands over Charlie’s skin, to press his lips to every inch of him. Instead he brings his hand down with a sharp slap that leaves a red handprint on Charlie’s ass.

Charlie moans softly and spreads his legs. Don brings his hand down again, and again. “No,” Don says sharply when Charlie reaches for himself. “You don’t get to come until I say you can.”

Charlie’s moan is deeper, and he clutches at the comforter with white-knuckled fingers to keep himself from touching. Charlie never listens when they’re outside this room, but here he does what Don says without complaint. Well, Don allows, without _much_ complaint. Charlie’s all soft compliance when he’s gotten what he wants, or knows he will soon, which is why Don sometimes makes him wait for it.

Don slides his hands over Charlie’s ass like he’d wanted to before, but now he can tell himself that it’s because he wants to examine his handiwork. The skin is red and hot and Don knows that Charlie will feel it tomorrow whenever he sits down. The thought of it makes something burn under Don’s own skin.

Don spreads Charlie’s cheeks, holds them apart and just _looks_. He’ll get to touch soon enough, and besides, despite the ache in his own cock, harder now than when he’d had it in Charlie’s mouth, he likes to hear the desperate, hungry sounds that slip out of Charlie’s throat when Don forces him to wait for it.

Finally Don touches Charlie with the pad of his thumb. Drags it over the wrinkled skin around his hole, then presses until the muscle relaxes. Don pushes in with one dry finger. Charlie tries not to make a sound, and the muscles in his thighs tremble with the effort of not pushing back, fucking himself on Don’s finger.

Don’s punishment of Charlie for making him crave this doesn’t extend to actually damaging him, so he carefully withdraws his finger from Charlie and gets off the bed. Charlie doesn’t speak, but Don can feel his eyes on him, watching avidly as Don gets the lube and condom out of the drawer.

Don gets back on the bed between Charlie’s legs and slides one slick finger inside him. After a cursory prep, Don replaces one finger with two. “What’s the rule?”

“I can’t come until you say,” Charlie replies, breathless and eager, as if he’d been anticipating the question. Or anticipating what comes after.

Don finds Charlie’s prostate and strokes it until Charlie’s shuddering with it. Just because Charlie isn’t allowed to come doesn’t mean Don has to make it easy on him. Charlie barely seems to notice when Don removes his fingers and rolls on the condom. Charlie’s body is still wracked with little shudders when Don guides the head of his cock to Charlie’s hole and presses in.

Charlie gasps as his hole stretches around Don, his fingers digging more deeply into the comforter. Don grips Charlie’s hips and pushes until he’s buried to the hilt inside him. Don needs a moment, but he tells himself that it’s for Charlie, to let him adjust to having Don filling him up.

Once Don is no longer afraid he’s going to come at the first movement, he draws out until just the tip of his cock remains inside Charlie’s ass, then plunges back in. Then again. Don’s hips piston and he drives his cock deep into Charlie, his balls slapping the back of Charlie’s thighs with each thrust until they draw up tight to his body. Don’s hips stutter and he loses his rhythm.

Don can feel it, what Charlie does to him, his body tugging on each thread until they coil in his belly warm and surging, and then he tenses and spills his release into the condom. Don catches himself and pulls out of Charlie’s body. He rolls the condom down and off and the next spurt sprays Charlie’s back and ass.

Charlie’s panting and whimpering when Don comes back to himself. Don feels wrung out and part of him thinks it would serve Charlie right if Don kept him on the edge a while longer yet. Instead Don wipes his hand through the come painting Charlie’s skin, rubs it into the red skin of his ass cheeks, then uses it to ease the way when he shoves two fingers back into Charlie’s ass.

Don fingers him until Charlie’s a writhing mess, fighting not to come even as he mindlessly fucks himself back onto Don’s fingers. Finally Don says, “Come for me, Charlie,” and immediately every muscle in Charlie’s body goes taut. Charlie’s unable to speak, but Don feels his orgasm in the way Charlie’s ass clamps down on his fingers. He finds the nub inside Charlie again and presses, rubs, until Charlie’s body can’t wrest another drop of come out of his balls.

With a last glance at the lovely red shade of Charlie’s ass, Don leaves him to get a cloth to clean them both up.

~*~*~*~

Charlie’s sucking on the end of the marker as he stares at the whiteboard. Don’s already wound up because the case is taking too long to close and he’s been locked in a room with Charlie for days while they try to solve it. Also, it’s been over a week since he’s fucked Charlie, which might have something to do with it, though Don doesn’t want to admit it.

“Charlie,” Don says sharply, and Charlie’s head snaps up. “Take a break.”

“I just need a minute . . .”

“Take a break,” Don repeats, his tone brooking no argument. He turns to the others. “That goes for everyone. Get a cup of coffee, go for a walk, clear your heads. Meet back here in half an hour.”

Terry is gone in a flash. With a look at Don, David follows her, and the other agents trail out of the conference room after him.

Don turns to Charlie and gives him a look. “Come with me.”

Charlie must see something in Don’s expression because he fumbles the marker into the tray, and doesn’t even turn back when it rolls out and clatters onto the floor. The bullpen is nearly empty when Don leads Charlie through it to the hallway. The men’s room is near the elevators, but further down is the family restroom.

Charlie looks like he doesn’t know whether to be worried or excited when Don holds the door for him and practically plasters himself to Charlie’s back in his own hurry to get inside. Don makes sure the door is locked before he turns to Charlie, who is standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“Pants down,” Don says. “Then bend over the sink.”

Charlie doesn’t argue. His fingers are clumsy as he hurries to slip the button at his waistband and lower the zip. Charlie shoves his pants down his thighs and bends over the sink in one motion, bracing his hands.

Don looks at Charlie, and wants to _keep_ looking at him, but they don’t have time for that indulgence. As he steps up behind Charlie, Don sees his own reflection in the mirror over the sink. His hair is standing up from running his fingers through it in frustration, and his eyes glitter with a mania that’s half exhaustion and half grim determination. His tie is loose, the top two buttons of his shirt undone – yesterday, maybe – and the cuffs rolled up. The tips of his fingers are stained black from the marker Charlie’s been using.

Don places his hands flat against Charlie’s lower back and pushes the t-shirt up, exposing his curved spine. Don curls his fingerss over Charlie’s shoulders under the material and presses the front of his slacks against Charlie’s ass, grinds against him. Don wants to fuck Charlie right here, in the bathroom outside his office at the FBI building in LA. He can’t; there’s a reason he doesn’t keep supplies for this in his desk.

Don’s already stiff from watching Charlie fellate the pen earlier. The fact that he’d let his mind wander in the conference room was proof enough that he needed to get his head back in the game. No pun intended.

Don undoes his slacks and lowers them. He holds Charlie in place as he thrusts against Charlie’s ass. His cock slides into the groove between Charlie’s ass cheeks and the stimulation makes Don bite his lip so he doesn’t make a sound. He slides one hand off Charlie’s shoulder, around to his front so he can play with one of his nipples.

Don hasn’t said he can’t, so Charlie’s pushing back, trying to get Don deeper. He makes a soft keen each time the head of Don’s cock rubs over his hole. Don knows it’s not enough to get Charlie off on its own; he tells himself he doesn’t care. Charlie squirms as Don rolls his nipple, pinches it. Don imagines Charlie’s t-shirt rubbing against the sensitive nipple later and drags his nails over the hard nub. He releases Charlie’s shoulder and slips his other hand beneath him to tease the other nipple. They’re the only purchase he has and Charlie has to bite back small sounds as Don tugs on them with each thrust of his hips.

Don loses himself in the feel of his cock sliding against Charlie’s ass, the sounds Charlie’s making, and his orgasm, which seemed so far off, comes upon him with a suddenness that’s startling. Don steps away from Charlie and strokes himself to completion, catching his come in his hand.

If they were home Don would come all over Charlie and rub it into his skin, but they can’t go back to the conference room stinking of sex. Don dumps most of the come into the sink where they’ll wash it away, and uses the rest to slick the way as he strokes Charlie’s cock. Charlie bites his bottom lip as he pushes into Don’s hand. He’s taking liberties which Don will have to punish him for later, but now he tightens his grip, twists his hand, and Charlie’s come spatters the sink.

They can’t go back together, especially with Charlie looking debauched. Don cleans them up and gets both their pants fastened. He leaves first, telling Charlie to lock the door behind him and take a few minutes to gather himself.

Don stands alone in the conference room staring at the whiteboard. They’re getting nowhere. He picks up the eraser and wipes away all of Charlie’s work.

“Don, what are you doing?” Charlie says.

“This isn’t helping us,” Don says. When he turns around Charlie’s gone pale and looks like a kicked puppy. “I don’t mean that you’re not helping us,” Don corrects. “But we’re going around in circles. We’ve gone so far down this path that we can’t even see if it’s the right one anymore. We need to start over.”

“Where?” Charlie said.

Don picks up the marker from the floor and holds it out to Charlie. “The beginning.”

The other agents trickle back in. Once they’re all there Don tells them the same thing. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Who called it in?”

They go over everything they know, looking at it again, coming at it from different angles. Charlie listens to them, and then he starts to write on the whiteboard. Don doesn’t turn his head, just keeps the momentum going.

“I think I’ve got something,” Charlie says without taking his eyes of the equations he’s writing.

“That’s great, Charlie,” Don says. He creates new teams and switches up assignments so each aspect of the case gets a fresh set of eyes, and then he turns to Charlie.

Terry comes over and stands next to Don so she can hear Charlie’s idea. When he’s done, Don squeezes Charlie’s shoulder and says, “Good job, Charlie.” Charlie shivers, but Terry doesn’t seem to notice.

Don leads Terry away from Charlie and she gives him an approving look. “I don’t know what you did to clear his head, but good job.” She pats Don’s arm, then goes over to assist the team she’s supervising.

Don very pointedly doesn’t look at Charlie as his mind drifts back to the feel of Charlie’s ass against his cock. He cuts off his train of thought when he finds himself imagining the benefit of using Charlie for stress relief every time a case gets bogged down. Something else he’ll have to punish Charlie for.

~*~*~*~

Don pushes Charlie up against the door and kisses him. It feels like Charlie’s been teasing him all evening, chewing his straw, licking marinara sauce off his fingers, and Don needs to get his mouth on Charlie’s. Charlie makes a sound of surprise, but he eagerly returns the kiss. Don hates himself for needing this. He pulls back and turns Charlie around, hand on the back of his head pressing Charlie’s face into the wood.

Charlie melts against the door as if Don isn’t manhandling him, so Don is even rougher when he undoes Charlie’s pants and shoves them down his legs. Charlie just spreads his legs as wide as he can within the limits of the material and pushes his ass back. Don palms Charlie’s ass cheek, squeezes the fullness of it, then slaps it sharply.

Charlie’s been tempting Don all night, which is something he needs to pay for. Don maneuvers Charlie into the kitchen because it’s closer than the living room. He pulls a chair away from the table and sits, pulling Charlie down over his lap. Charlie squirms against Don’s legs and Don gives him a warning slap. Charlie lets out an involuntary groan, which spurs Don forward.

“You’ve been a bad boy, Charlie,” Don says.

Charlie moans a soft, “Yes,” in agreement, and counts each one of the ten stinging slaps Don delivers to his ass cheeks.

Charlie’s ass is a pretty pink and warm with the blood that’s rushed to the surface when Don is finished. He briefly considers adding a few more slaps to deepen the color, but he’s got more planned for Charlie already and that would be selfishly indulgent. Don pushes Charlie off of his lap and he lands on his knees in front of him. Don spreads his legs to give Charlie room between them.

“You know what I want.”

Charlie scurries between Don’s legs and reaches for the button on his waistband. Don’s cock is hard, and aches in the confines of the denim. He holds back the sounds that want to escape when Charlie alleviates the press of the jeans, then uses his hand to free him from the boxers.

Charlie knows just how Don likes it. He licks around the head, getting it nice and wet, and then slides his mouth down the length of Don’s cock. Charlie wraps his hand around the base, uses his own saliva to slick the way as he pumps Don while his tongue teases the head and underside, sliding down until lips meet fingers.

Don touches the top of Charlie’s head. Charlie immediately removes his hand and slides his mouth down all the way until the head of Don’s cock nudges the back of his throat. Charlie raises up, then slides back down again. This time he swallows and Don’s fingers tighten in Charlie’s hair.

Charlie raises up again. This time when he slides his mouth down Don pushes Charlie’s head until his cock is inside his throat. Charlie doesn’t gag (Don trained him out of that years ago), nor does he struggle for air even though Don knows that Charlie can’t breathe with Don’s cock lodged this deeply in his throat.

Don lightens his grip on Charlie’s hair enough that Charlie can raise his head. He sucks in air through his nose without releasing Don’s cock and moves his mouth up and down Don with renewed purpose. Don forces Charlie’s head down one more time, closes his eyes as his cock fills Charlie’s throat.

This time when Don allows Charlie to lift his head, he follows, standing, keeping his cock inside Charlie’s mouth. Charlie’s forced to lean back, to brace his hands against the floor. Don uses his grip on Charlie’s hair for leverage and holds Charlie in place so he can fuck his mouth. Charlie lets Don use him. Don both adores and hates him for it.

Don’s orgasm builds slowly at first, then hits him like a roller coaster. Don shoves his cock into Charlie’s mouth so that the first volley of come is into his throat. He pulls out and lets the second spurt fall onto his tongue. Charlie swallows, then again, until Don’s softening cock is too tender.

Don makes Charlie hold him on his tongue until he can move. Don takes a step backward so Charlie can straighten. When Charlie gives Don a hopeful pleading look, Don says, “Bedroom.”

Charlie moves swiftly, rising to his feet and heading out of the kitchen hurriedly. As Don tucks himself back into his boxers and fastens his jeans, he thinks that Charlie wouldn’t be quite so eager if he knew what awaited him.

~*~

Don leans on the doorframe, beer bottle hanging from his fingers, and takes in the sight of Charlie trussed up on the bed. His arms are pulled out to the top corners, the padded cuffs attached to eyebolts Don had affixed to each leg of the headboard. His legs are pulled back so that his ass is raised in the air, giving Don easy access, and the ankle cuffs attached to the same eyebolts.

“You’re missing a good game,” Don says.

There’s a cock ring around Charlie’s cock and balls and a medium sized vibrating dildo plugging his ass. The penis gag in his mouth keeps Charlie from speaking, but his eyes beg Don to let him come.

Don walks over to the bed. He trails his fingers over Charlie’s ass, noting that the pink from the earlier spanking had faded, then up the back of his thigh to the sensitive skin at the back of his knee. Don drops his hand to the base of the dildo and shifts it around inside Charlie. He ignores the response low in his belly as Charlie keens around the gag.

Don sets down the bottle on the bedside table, ignoring Charlie’s pleading eyes as he kneels on the bed. He turns off the vibrator, then slowly withdraws the dildo from Charlie. Don plays with Charlie’s hole, stretched and slick with lube. He presses in with two fingers, then three, finger fucks Charlie until he feels his own cock swell even more inside his already uncomfortable jeans at the feel of Charlie’s tight channel on his fingers.

Don lays the dildo on the towel spread out on the bed, between the small and large dildos. The small has already been used on Charlie, so Don reaches for the large now. He covers it with lube, then adds more to Charlie’s hole before pressing the dildo inside him. Don forces down his body’s response to the sounds Charlie makes around the gag as he’s filled, his hole stretching even more around the larger dildo.

Don stands beside the bed and wipes the lube off his hands. He picks up the bottle and takes a sip of beer that he barely tastes. “Sounds like the next inning is starting,” Don says. He reaches out and flicks on the vibrating function before he leaves Charlie alone once more.

In the living room Don sits in his chair and stairs unseeing at the television. His hand grips the beer bottle tight enough to crack it, while the other digs into the arm of the chair. Charlie can’t form words, but Don hears the sounds of his moans and whimpers over the announcers. He refuses to touch himself, a form of self-flagellation rather than solidarity. The blowjob Charlie had given him earlier seems like a lifetime ago.

Don takes a sip of beer he can’t taste just to wet his mouth and forces his attention back to the game. The background sound of Charlie’s moans prickles along Don’s skin. He stands at the next commercial break. It hasn’t been long enough, but he can’t stay away any longer. Don gains strength from the hopeful look Charlie gives him the moment he enters the bedroom.

Don finishes the beer and sets the bottle aside. He lays below Charlie on the mattress where he has a good view of Charlie’s ass. Don plays with the dildo, pulling it out before shoving it back in, twisting it. He increases the vibration intensity and watches Charlie’s eyes go wide before he tips his head back and mewls around the gag.

Don kneels on the bed. He unfastens his jeans and shoves them down his hips with his boxers just far enough to free himself. He rolls on a condom and slicks it, then turns off the vibrator. Don withdraws the dildo from Charlie and replaces it with his own cock. Charlie cries out at the suddenness of it. The sound goes directly to Don’s cock and his hips speed up so he’s fucking Charlie harder, faster.

When Don feels his release building, he stills his hips and squeezes the base of his cock, holding it back. Charlie cries out in frustration because he’s knows he’s not coming until Don does. Don withdraws from Charlie and slicks up the large dildo before pressing it back inside him.

Don picks up the flogger. It’s new, and Charlie eyes it apprehensively. Charlie deserves to be punished, so Don doesn’t reassure him. He disposes of the condom and stands beside the bed, dragging the lashes over Charlie’s exposed ass and thighs. Don brings the flogger down lightly, then with more force. Don’s breathing speeds up as Charlie’s pale skin pinks up again.

When Don’s satisfied with the color he moves on to the inside of Charlie’s arms. He moves back to Charlie’s ass, swinging the flogger so that the lashes reach Charlie’s unprotected cock and balls. Charlie’s reaction is more than Don could’ve hoped for – he arches off the bed and keens as his cock jerks desperately.

Don does it again, and once more, because that’s all he can take. He gets back onto the bed and rolls a condom on, slamming back into Charlie as soon as his hole his empty. Don has no intention of stopping this time; he rides Charlie until his thighs burn with the effort. Don’s entire body goes taut and there’s only the sensation of his cock emptying into Charlie.

Don withdraws and makes the mistake of looking at Charlie’s face. His eyes convey his urgency. Charlie’s hole is so stretched and loose that Don fits four fingers into him. Don wonders if he could fit his whole fist inside Charlie. He’s tempted to try, but he’ll save that for another day. Instead he focuses on Charlie’s prostate, rubbing the nub until Charlie’s nearly sobbing around the gag, his entire body yearning to come.

His fingers still moving inside Charlie, Don releases the cock ring. There’s a pause, as if Charlie’s body doesn’t know what to do now, and then his cock pulses, shooting come all over his chest and belly with such force that a drop reaches his chin.

Don releases Charlie from his restraints and massages his arms and legs to get the blood circulating again. He gets a warm cloth and cleans them both up. Don turns off the television and the lights and gets into bed with Charlie. In the dark he can’t see the sated expression on Charlie’s face.

But when Don closes his eyes, he sees Charlie at six, at sixteen, at twenty-six, looking at Don with hero worship. Don slips his arm around Charlie. He’ll punish him tomorrow.

The End


End file.
